


Our Time At The Edge

by LaurenWritesFics



Category: Before We Go (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Prequel, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 06:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurenWritesFics/pseuds/LaurenWritesFics
Summary: Georgetown University, 2004.On graduation day, Nick Vaughan plans to propose to girlfriend Hannah Dempsey.He's about to make the biggest mistake of his life.
Kudos: 2





	Our Time At The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Any reference to existing copyrighted/trademarked companies/characters is done so without intent of ownership.
> 
> This story must not be posted, reproduced or altered in any way without the express permission of the author.
> 
> * * *

Graduation day had arrived once again, the bright blooms that framed Georgetown’s Southwest Quadrangle obscured by a flurry of dark caps and gowns. Orderly lines began to form, threading through the center of the red-brick campus. Forgetful students rushed to the benches by the clock tower to collect papers and caps before scurrying back into place.

The campus bell rang, and anxious footsteps echoed through the long hallways leading to the auditorium.

Nick Vaughan was nervous. Whenever somebody passed by, he stopped rocking on his heels and straightened his back, trying his best to maintain the illusion of confidence. 

On the cusp of twenty-three, with the floodgates of the world about to open for him, he had a plan. Not a solid plan – haphazard at best – but still, a plan. He had never really wanted to go to medical school. He was intelligent, compassionate, motivated, but his heart wasn’t in it. He flunked his boards. He wasted four years keeping up appearances. The hard case slung across his back held his true passion. Music. He’d grown up in a house with shelves full of records, heard his mother sing while she washed the dishes, watched his father light a cigarette and crank the radio up on long car journeys. Nick’s favorite was jazz. It had always been jazz. The freedom of it, the tangible emotion, it resonated with him more than anything ever had.

Lifting the case over his head, he sunk down against the wall and unpacked his trumpet, fingers sweeping over the valves. Then, he pulled the small velveteen box from his jeans pocket and turned it over in his hands. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. He sighed. In four hours, he would ask Hannah Dempsey to be his wife.

* * *

Nick didn’t quite have the courage to walk into the auditorium and watch her take to the stage. He needed time. He was too busy trying to condense four years into four words. People mistakenly took them for the cliché college sweethearts they knew from teen movies. Nick and Hannah were anything but – they were messy, wild, and perfectly imperfect.

He paced, the sharp edges of the solitaire diamond digging into his clammy palm.

“Hannah Louise Dempsey, will you marry me?” Both his voice and his hands trembled.

His shoulders dropped and he glanced down the hallway as her name was called. A part of him hoped she would burst through the doors and wrap her arms around him. But of course, she wouldn’t. He just wanted to get this whole damn thing over with.

The ring started to slip from his hand. He stood and started pacing. Closing the trumpet case, he slipped it onto his shoulder and walked out of the building, stopping to rest against hot brick, the afternoon sun warming his face. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

“You got this, Nick. You got this.”

He felt the soft beginnings of weightlessness course through his body as he breathed slowly, feeling his chest rise and fall with acute awareness. He didn’t realize how long he had been standing on the corner until his eyes fluttered open and he saw the sky dissolve into sherbet pink stillness. With a jolt, he pushed himself off the wall and lifted his trumpet to his lips as Hannah came into view. Sultry and languid, the sound of ‘My Funny Valentine’ drifted through the campus grounds. Their song.

“Nick, what are you doing?” Hannah laughed, coming to a halt in front of him, crossing her arms.

Nick grinned.

“You’re ridiculous.” She pushed the trumpet away to kiss him. “We’re heading to this really cool bar downtown, wanna come?”

“I don’t know. I don’t wanna cramp your style…” Nick waved his trumpet in the air and cocked an eyebrow.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Oh stop, they’ll love you. Please come. For me?”

Nick shuffled, shoved his hands in his pockets and let out a dramatic huff. “Fine. But I get you all to myself later. Deal?”

“Deal.”

* * *

At the bar, Nick kept his distance, giving Hannah the space she needed to be with the friends she loved. He felt like an intruder. He chugged the last of his beer and slammed the glass down on the counter. _If he left now, would she even notice?_ With one last glance, he picked up his case and walked out. He would wait for her in her dorm, he decided.

Hannah crashed through the door at two o’clock in the morning, greeting Nick with a screech.

“Oh my God, Nick, you scared me!” She clutched her chest, breathless.

“Sorry.” He ran his thumb over the ring box, now hidden in his jacket. “Had a good time?”

“The best! Can you believe we’re graduates?” She was slightly slurring. “We’re like, real adults now. Isn’t that _scary?_ ”

“I’m not gonna graduate.” Nick avoided her eyes. “I flunked my boards. I dropped out.”

Hannah smoothed her dress and sat beside him on the bed. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“So you’re just gonna play your music?” Hannah shifted on her haunches.

The word ‘just’ was like a dagger to Nick’s chest.

“Yeah, I’m _just_ gonna play my music.” There was venom in his voice now. “And you’re _just_ gonna be a designer.”

“Nick, don’t do that. You know I didn’t mean it that way. I support you.”

He turned to her sharply. “Do you?”

“Nick, please.” Hannah’s eyes glistened “Don’t ruin tonight.”

“I think you already did that.”

“What are you talking about?”

Nick stood up. “You asked me to come with you tonight and you didn’t even know I was there. You were too busy pounding shots.”

“Sorry for spending time with my _friends_.” She would have spat the word if she was sober.

Nick dragged a hand across his mouth and scrunched his lips. “I’m sorry, I’m being an asshole.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“This is not how I wanted to do this.”

Hannah was stood up now too. “Do what?” She walked over to him and placed a hand on his chest, looking up at him with skittish eyes. “Baby, what’s going on?”

“Can we start over?” Nick pointed to the door. “I’m gonna walk out and come back in. Wait right here. Don’t. Move.”

He walked back into the room with his hands behind his back.

“If we fight, that’s okay. Yelling, crying, slamming doors – all of it. I wanna fight with you. I wanna wake up next to you. I wanna go places, see things, do crazy things with you. I don‘t wanna lose you, Hannah.” He presented the ring to her. “I want you with me, always.”

She couldn’t look at him.

Nick was down on one knee, jaw clenched at the sight of Hannah’s strained smile. She was unnervingly calm.

“You are so sweet. The _sweetest_. But I can’t do this.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” He snapped.

“Nick, get up.” She walked over to him and cupped his face in her hands. “We both know the timing of this is all wrong.”

“Wrong for us, or wrong for you?” He pushed her hands away.

“You’re going to New York. I’m going home to Philly. I didn’t-“

Nick held up a hand to stop her. “You didn’t plan on this lasting past graduation.” He shook his head and scoffed. “I should have known. I’m so stupid.”

“No, Nick, you’re not.” She was begging for forgiveness. “I just don’t think you really know what you want.”

“Then you don’t know me at all.” He picked up his trumpet case, put the ring box back in his pocket and headed for the door. “Happy graduation, good luck with the rest of your life.”


End file.
